Read Online The Diary Of A Submissive: A True Story by Sophie Morgan - Free Book Online Page A

legs entwined. I opened my eyes, saw him staring back at me and shut them immediately, feigning sleep.
    ‘Sophie? Are you awake?’
    I stayed quiet. Fuck. What did I do now? ‘Sophie? We need to go to breakfast soon. Are you OK? Talk to me.’
    My eyes stayed closed. ‘I’m fine. Great.’ Too effusive? ‘Fine.’
    ‘Are you going to open your eyes then?’ His voice was certainly starting to sound bemused.
    ‘Yes, in a minute!’ Mine on the other hand had a bright sing-song quality to it not dissimilar to my mum when she was being faux cheery. Which in hindsight is a mental image that didn’t help.
    His hand took mine. ‘It’s OK, you know. It doesn’t mean anything.’
    My eyes shot open and stared at his, reassuring, calm, oddly sweet. I couldn’t decide whether I should be offended, but my glare must have given me away, because his hands came up in a gesture of surrender. ‘Sorry, that’snot what I meant. It was amazing, I enjoyed it, it was brilliant.’
    ‘Damn right,’ I said grudgingly, although a smile was starting to form at the edges of my mouth.
    ‘All I’m saying is it doesn’t have to happen again if you don’t want it to, and it hasn’t changed anything about our friendship.’ I stared at him for a long time.
    ‘You’re sure?’
    He nodded. ‘Really.’
    At that exact moment my stomach growled and I blushed. ‘Right, time for breakfast then. I get the bathroom first.’ I leapt up, grabbed my clothes from the side and headed for the shower, trying to act vaguely normally. He lay in bed, watching me move, not turning away or moving at all. I got halfway across the room before I couldn’t restrain it any more. ‘Stop checking out my arse!’
    ‘I’m not, I’m admiring the pyjamas.’
    By the time we had both washed and dressed and got ready to meet Ella and the friend who had inadvertently kick-started this turn of events things had returned to a kind of comfortable normality. We were bantering as normal, breakfast was as it would have been if I hadn’t become intimately acquainted with his cock the night before, and no more was said about it, at least until later that night when I got a text.
Glad you got back OK, I’m
    back fine now too. PS. Wish
    I’d had condoms.
    Git.
    It is, in hindsight, somewhat inevitable that not long afterwards we ended up sleeping together properly – ironically we both bought condoms that time. My visits were much the same as they’d ever been, it was just that over time I ended up sleeping in his bed rather than the spare room. We’d continued being friends first, talking frankly about everything, and that extended to our sexual relationship. We liked each other – a lot – but I was really not the woman for him, and as for him, he was wonderful, funny, clever, and I found him very attractive, but he didn’t make my stomach flip when he walked into a room. I didn’t put it that way to him – not least because I feared I’d sound like a naive fool – but in long chats walking the dog we came to our shared understanding of what this was, the terms of engagement for our relationship. It was fun, no expectations, no responsibilities. If either of us started seeing anyone else it stopped. Otherwise, as long as we were both having fun and one of us didn’t have deeper feelings than the other, anything went. And, over a period of time, as we got to know each other, it really did.
    I can honestly say though that, even bearing in mind our similarities, I never expected to find my wrists tied to Thomas’s headboard with him looming over me with an evil half-smile that made me wonder for a second just what I’d let myself in for. Which goes back to the serendipitous nature of the queue, and – as my mother always said – the need not to judge a book by its cover (although this probably wasn’t exactly what she had in mind).
    We’d been fuck buddies for a while by that point, so it was inevitable we would end up having a conversationabout